


Marked

by Caia (Caius)



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Marking, Plug and Play, Season/Series 03, Somnophilia, Spark Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-22
Updated: 2011-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-14 23:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caius/pseuds/Caia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Galvatron has fun with Cyclonus' spark. Creative liberties of the 'you know what would be hot?!' variety taken with the physical properties of Transformer sparks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spacehussy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Spacehussy).



"Open."

Seated on his throne, his lieutenant on his lap, cables already firmly connected, Cyclonus' systems overcharged with his Lord's repeated overloads, Mighty Galvatron tapped on his Second's chestplates. He was only astroseconds from tearing them apart in impatience, but he would never have to.

"My Lord Galvatron," Cyclonus groaned, as his chestplates parted automatically.

Cyclonus had never bared himself like this before, _would_ never for anyone except Galvatron. And even with Galvatron, part of him watched his Lord anxiously, always on the alert for signs of instability, of anger that would cause his Lord to do something that he might regret--something that he could easily be irrevocable, with Cyclonus so vulnerable before him.

Galvatron's helm sparkled only slightly, in pleasure, Cyclonus thought, rather than madness--or at least, in a pleased sort of madness.

Then Galvatron's helm descended into Cyclonus' chest and he could think of nothing else.

At the first touch of Galvatron's lips to his spark, Cyclonus shuddered, instinctive fear mixing with equally instinctive delight and submission. He _was_ his Lord's. "Mighty One!" Cyclonus' arms went almost unconsciously to the back of Galvatron's helm, clinging but not attempting to control. "My Lord..."

Galvatron hummed against his spark, sending his pleasure and possessiveness straight through Cyclonus' body. "Mighty Galvatron, all yours!" Cyclonus' hands clung even tighter to Galvatron's crown, until Galvatron growled and sent a pulse of disapproval through his spark and his interface hardware.

Cyclonus pulled his hands away from Galvatron's crown, settling them on the arm-rests of the throne instead, clinging to maintain his position and to prevent himself from touching his Lord. As Galvatron licked and sucked, taking as much of the spark as he could into his mouth and grazing his teeth against it, Cyclonus sent every byte and joule of his pleasure though the connection. "Mighty One...!"

When Galvatron growled this time, it was with arousal, and his hands went to the open panels of Cyclonus' chestplates, forcing them further apart and holding them in place, making him truly helpless to resist his Lord's desires.

" _Lord Galvatron_!" Nothing, nothing at all, could make Cyclonus close his chestplates until Galvatron desired it. Of necessity, the part of him that never quite trusted Galvatron's moods, that looked out always for their safety, switched off, leaving Cyclonus entirely open and vulnerable.

It was perfect.

And then--Galvatron _bit_ , and Cyclonus' spark flared into his mouth, fighting back instinctively as Cyclonus clung to Galvatron's sides and vibrated with pain and pleasure, not aware of anything except the teeth in his spark, not even aware that he was overloading until he felt Galvatron overload against him in response, digging his teeth even deeper into the spark and causing Cyclonus to overload again.

Cyclonus wasn't sure how often that cycle repeated itself. Three times, four times, Cyclonus screaming Galvatron's name and titles over and over again, his systems completely out of his conscious control as Galvatron bit him again and again until he passed out on Galvatron's lap.

*****

When he regained, he was still there, and still open, pressed against Galvatron's closed chestplates as Galvatron nibbled contentedly on his neck, one hand idly groping his aft, interface cables still connecting them.

Later, Cyclonus would get--and then destroy--the security footage that recorded how many times he had overloaded and how many times Galvatron had used him while he was unconscious. In the meantime..."Mighty One." His voice was lower, weaker than usual, his entire systems drained for Galvatron's pleasure. "Your will?"

"My Cyclonus," Galvatron said. He continued to pet him idly, but not, Cyclonus registered, to arouse either of them; Cyclonus was merely there, and _his_. The connection between them sent only a quiet content possessiveness, and Cyclonus returned his delight in being possessed with his whole body and spark. Then Galvatron shifted, slightly, beneath him on the throne. "Close your chestplates."

Somewhat regretfully, Cyclonus obeyed, self-preservation programming coming back to life as the layers of metal slid back together, only slightly warped by Galvatron's hands.

As the last piece of metal slid back into place, Galvatron's interface cables retracted as well, and with a final squeeze of his aft and a harsh bite to a well-chewed neck cable, Galvatron shoved him off his lap and his throne. "Go, you have work to do."

In a practiced move, Cyclonus landed on his knees. "Yes, my Lord." He got up and went off to see about the surveillance tapes, and then to see what trouble the rest of the army had gotten into.

*****

The pleasant ache in Cyclonus' spark did not strike him as remarkable, at first. For as long as Galvatron had been interfacing with him, he had always felt it for hours or days afterward; as long as it took for him to need repairs, or for a battle or another session with his Lord to replace the sensations with more pressing ones. And he could feel Galvatron in many places, after all; his interfacing hardware tingled, his chestplates ached, his neck stung, and his antennae were, as always, slightly warped.

It had been a rather mild session, all things considered.

A day or so later, Galvatron threw Cyclonus up against the wall, one hand digging into the seems of his chestplates, threatening to rip them apart if Cyclonus didn't open them for him. "My Lord? Do you want...?" Cyclonus gasped out. Sometimes, after all, Galvatron preferred to tear him open, and Cyclonus did not wish to deny him.

"Open for me, Cyclonus," he commanded, and both chestplates and spark casing flew open beneath his hands. "Yes...!" One hand grabbed the spark eagerly, as cables expertly found the ports in Cyclonus' thighs, greedy for sensation as he claimed Cyclonus' spark as his own.

"Yes! My Lord!" It was even more intense than it had been before, propelling Cyclonus to the edge of overload the moment he was touched. Almost unconsciously, Cyclonus' own cables completed the hard-line connection with Galvatron, wanting to give as much as his Lord wanted to take. "Mighty One!"

And then he could not restrain himself from a low moan of disappointment as Galvatron pulled back, looking at Cyclonus' spark rather than fondling it. "Mighty Galvatron? Is something wrong?"

But Galvatron was already laughing in delight, possessive lust flooding through the hard-line connections. "Nothing, nothing at all, my lieutenant!" One hand reached out, tracing very specific patterns on Cyclonus' spark as Cyclonus himself shuddered and tried not to completely lose control of himself and his overloads this time. "I've _marked_ you. There are bite-marks on your spark." Galvatron's hand rubbed harder, and now Cyclonus was aware of the damage, he could feel it too, tiny little dents in his spark where Galvatron's teeth had been.

All self-control left him, and he overloaded hard.

He had just enough self-control to realize that he had received no permission to do so, and looked at Galvatron--his hand still wrapped around Cyclonus' spark, thumb stroking the bite-marks--with some apprehension.

Galvatron was hardly paying attention to Cyclonus' optics at that point, but he must have felt some of the source of Cyclonus' apprehension. "Overload." Cyclonus tipped over again, automatically, the sensation so much better now that it was allowed, and better than ever with Galvatron's hand squeezing tighter around his spark as Galvatron's overload filled his body.

"I'm going to put my _name_ on you," Galvatron growled against his antenna. He extracted his hand from Cyclonus' chestplates, hurriedly indicating that Cyclonus should close them for the time being. "Come!" Galvatron disengaged, turned, and headed for his quarters, never questioning that Cyclonus would follow.

As he did, eagerly. Name or not, he could already feel his Lord's mark inside of him. 


End file.
